


Leaving Espen

by Osiris_Brackhaus (Rynthjan)



Series: Bobby Dover [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Death, Drugs, Espen, First Date, M/M, Psychics, Romance, Torture, phoenix empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:13:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Osiris_Brackhaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reluctantly, Bobby has agreed to a date with Vian, hoping the young Dracon will be the generous sugar daddy Bobby so desperately needs...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dinner Date

Nervously, Bobby walked up and down the narrow alley between the garbage containers of his housing estate. He had been so very sure this was a good idea, so convinced it was better than all his options, it had just seemed the next logical step. 

Only now, it felt like a perfect way to get neck-deep into trouble. 

For what seemed to him like the hundredth time, he checked his watch. Still a few minutes early. Why was time always creeping so slowly when one was waiting for something to happen? 

With a tiny, angry sound, Bobby opened his pack of cigarettes and lit himself yet another one. This was his third one since he had walked outside, quite a lot considering that he had been pacing up and down for less than ten minutes now, and proper cigarettes were damnably expensive. But on the other hand, this WAS a situation to be nervous about, and waste a little bit of money on. After all, he was maybe meeting up with the man who’d pay his rent for the rest of his life, or at least the next few years coming. Or he might end up in slavery, just like Wayne, he reminded himself grimly. 

It still beat working at the factory by a long mile, Bobby told himself with a deep, bone-weary sigh. 

It all had started on that fateful day when the recruiter of the stockfish factory had come to their school, extolling the virtues of company life, of a regular work schedule and health- and retirement plans. Quite to his own surprise, it had been even worse than Bobby had imagined. When the recruiter had come to the point that he started scaring the other kids with tales of misery and homelessness in case they didn’t immediately see the wisdom of working at the factory, Bobby had finally snapped.  
He couldn’t recall the exact words, but he had been rather graphic in his expletives, and quite frank in his opinion about the recruiter, the factory or the life of commoners in Bellingham in general. Naturally, the recruiter had used this as an opportunity to show the other kids someone who would NEVER make it in his glorious enterprise, because doing so required manners and a modicum of good breeding, neither of which Bobby obviously possessed. 

To make a long story short, Bobby had turned his back on the recruiter in mid-sentence, leaving the class and slamming the door shut so hard the small inset glass window fell out and shattered on the gray linoleum floor. 

If he had ever had a remote trace of a chance to find a job at the factory, now he had blown it in the most flamboyant way possible. 

He could almost feel his teacher and the recruiter share a long, ‘This one was no good from the beginning’ look between the two of them. Bobby had been so angry he could have thrown up. 

But he hadn’t, and instead had sneaked into his mother’s bedroom and stole her last bottle of vodka out from under her. Then he had slunk down to the garbage cans, smoked a few, drank most of the vodka and felt miserable for himself. 

It was then that he found the small business card in the backpocket of his jeans. It was a plain simple card, empty except for a local free-call number, and a four-letter word: Vian. 

Vian Dracon, son of Phoenix Knight Yaden Dracon. One of the most powerful telekinetics known to humanity; a half-alien poised to become a Phoenix Knight as soon as he was old enough. 

And a dastardly cute guy who had flirted so shamelessly with him that Bobby still felt a nervous tingle every time he thought about it. He wouldn’t exactly dare to call it butterflies, but the image was awfully close. Way too close for his liking. 

But whatever sort of insects he was feeling in his belly, Bobby was sure of two things: Vian was a noble and consequentially rich as shit, and he wasn’t as creepy evil as most nobles. Not that Bobby knew any of the highborn, but still. Vian seemed nice. 

So maybe Bobby would never be a super-talented stockfish fileter, or a respected quality controller, but he still was damn pretty himself. If nothing else, he’d make a gorgeous companion to some rotten-rich noble, and if that meant sex, in the case of Vian Dracon that was a definite plus. Who could resist a guy with two tails, anyway? If getting a grip on his life meant getting a sugar daddy, Vian definitely seemed as good as they could possibly come. 

In the end, Bobby had poured down the remaining vodka right there on one of the garbage containers and called the number on the business card. Almost instantly, a woman had picked up on the other end, who had very politely asked him to wait for a moment while she re-routed the call to Squire Vian.

When Vian picked up the call only seconds later, Bobby had initially assumed that Vian was on Espen. But of course, he was on P2, currently, and only the call was being re-routed through some sort of psionic portal so they could have a near instantaneous interstellar communication. This blatant display of wealth only reconfirmed Bobby’s conviction that there had to be some nice way of making money here. 

Vian himself had been pleasantly surprised by Bobby’s call, and after a short while had agreed to a date later this week. He’d choose a place for dinner, and he’d pick up Bobby at seven in front of his home. 

Which would be today, in about one minute less since he checked his watch the last time. 

Bobby looked at the remains of the cigarette in his hand, exasperated. How could time move to fast in one regard and so slow in another? 

But at least now, it was late enough so he could walk out from between the containers and to the front entrance, with as little chance of meeting anyone he knew as possible. He really wasn’t in the mood to have anyone comment on his current outfit. 

Not that he was dressed much different to usual, with his skintight dark jeans, an equally tight sleeveless green shirt with a high collar and long earrings. But he looked quite posh for a weekday afternoon, and quite skimpy considering the faint drizzle that was buffed through the street by strong gusts of wind. 

But Vian had asked him to dress for warm weather, and who was he not to do exactly what his future sugar daddy wanted of him? So, warm weather clothes it was. Though by now, Bobby would have killed to have thought about bringing at least some sort of sweater. 

Bobby was just thinking about lighting another cigarette when he heard a weird, soft sound from the house’s front door. Turning around, he found Vian standing there, who currently seemed more startled by the miserable weather than anything else. 

The powerful psion and Phoenix Knight-to-be gave the cutest annoyed yelp and flipped up the hood of his black sweatshirt, forcing his cat-like ears to point straight forward underneath. Only then he noticed he wasn't alone, and smiled at Bobby, his canines showing.

“Hi,” he grimaced at the weather, then appreciatively started looking Bobby up and down. “How can you look so gorgeous despite this... rain?” 

The remark was so guileless that Bobby couldn’t help but smile in reply. “Habit, I guess. It’s not particularly bad weather for this place.”

Vian shook himself in a gesture of pure disgust. “Rain that’s not falling straight down is making my skin crawl. Or better, my fur. It’s making me twitchy all over. Are you ready?” 

“I’ve just been waiting for you.” Bobby replied. “Ready what for?” 

“To go somewhere properly nice for a date,” Vian said with a wriggled eyebrow and a smile that showed off his long canines again. “Are you ready for port?” 

Again, Bobby had to suppress a satisfied grin. If Vian was willing to spend a small fortune for a port to dinner, he was exactly the right person to support Bobby at least for a while. 

“I’ve never been ported before,” Bobby replied. “Do I have to do anything special?” 

“Nothing, just relax.” Gently, Vian took Bobby’s hand, still smiling. 

With his slightly inhuman features looking out from under his hood, his large ears forcing the upper rim of the hood into a perfectly straight line, he looked almost frighteningly dashing, Bobby realized. This was a guy he wouldn’t mind staring at for quite a long time, noble or not. 

All of a sudden, something tilted, slid over them, and then the sun was shining. The smell of rotting fish was replaced by the scent of warm rocks and flowers, the restless wind by a gentle breeze, and the crisp cool air by a balmy summer evening. 

Blinking, Bobby looked around, not quite sure what to make of the lovely sunset that presented him over some sort of harbor. The whole sky was filled with red and pinks and purples and orange, a riot of color so very unlike the slate gray of Bellingham. Also unlike Bellingham, this port was filled with slender ships with white sails and surrounded by stately buildings in pastel colors and gently drooping palm trees. 

“Oh. My. GOD.” Bobby whispered. 

“Is everything alright?” Vian inquired immediately. “Are you okay?” 

“What? No, this is WONDERFUL!” Struggling to find the words to express how fascinated and awed he was, Bobby looked at his companion. “Thank you.” he finally replied, and acting entirely on instinct, placed a tiny kiss on Vian’s cheek. 

Visibly taken aback, Vian blinked, then his ears started struggling against the hood he was still wearing. With another slightly annoyed grunt, he swiped it off, holding down his ears with both his hands until the restless twitching subsided. 

“Sorry,” he said, sounding mortified. “They sometimes do that.” 

“It’s okay,” Bobby replied, positively charmed. “A bit weird, but very sweet.” 

In reply, Vian seriously just shrugged and looked down on his hands. If Bobby hadn’t known better, he could have sworn he saw him blush. But it probably was just the light of the sunset. 

"So, where are we?" Bobby asked, once again looking at the scenery with the clear intent of cherishing every single second of this. "Are we still on Espen?" 

"Yes, we're just a few thousand miles south of Bellingham, in Port St. Anna. My sister was here during the 'Zombie Pirates of Espen', and she suggested the restaurant for tonight."

"Lady Myriam?" Bobby asked curiously. "I saw the movie, but I really don't remember a Phoenix Knight showing up - it's 'Captain Teagan and the Zombie Pirates of Espen', after all."

"Ah, well, you know,..." Vian started, his ears defensively pointing backwards. "I am not sure how much I can say without getting both of us in trouble. But it IS a beautiful restaurant." 

With an apologetic smile, Vian gestured down the paved path they were standing on, leading further down towards the harbor. When he also offered his arm, Bobby nodded as graciously as he possibly could and followed him down towards the first buildings. 

"So are you seriously telling me that the 'Zombie Pirates' have actually happened?" it burst out of Bobby after a few steps. "I mean - I thought it was all fabrication. Things like that don't happen here. We're on Espen, after all." 

"Uh - " Vian replied with a pained grin, hesitating. "Can we leave it at 'it was a lot weirder in reality', please? I really don't want to get in trouble with the PR team again." 

At this evasive and yet very honest answer, Bobby laughed out loud. Damn, this alien was charming. 

"It's okay, I won't ask again." Still smiling, Bobby tossed his hair over one shoulder, a move that never failed to capture the attention of any vaguely interested male. "But those things in the movies in general - they do really happen?"

Vian nodded with an odd mix of glee and exhaustion. "It's usually much messier in reality, and way weirder. They have to tone it down for the movies so people still believe it." 

"Really? That is kind of hard to believe."

"Exactly." Grinning, Vian suddenly stopped, the low sun setting glowing highlights onto the furry tips of his ears and the downy fuzz on his cheeks and upper arms. "So... How hungry are you? We could take the quick path to the restaurant, or take the scenic route and stroll through the harbor for a while."

Bobby realized he wasn't entirely sure what Vian had just asked him. The golden sunlight had caught in Vian's phoenix amulet that nestled on his furry chest, and it had taken a surprising amount of willpower not to reach out and feel the white fur it was resting on. There had been something about a 'scenic route', though, and whatever that entailed exactly, it was perfectly fine with Bobby tonight. 

"Scenic route sounds lovely," he replied, hoping that Vian didn't notice how distracted he was. "I don't know - maybe we start with a small drink somewhere else before moving to the restaurant?" 

For a heartbeat, Vian's ears pointed in two different directions, but he caught himself instantly. 

"Sure, if you want to." Again offering his arm to Bobby, he added: "Everything that allows me to spend some more time in such gorgeous company." 

"Flatterer," Bobby replied, smiling. "As if there isn't a whole busload of fans waiting to throw themselves at your feet where ever you turn up." 

"Uh..." Vian sounded rather creeped out by the idea. "Well, not everywhere. And, you know, there's a good reason I try to stay as far away from them as I can." 

"No challenge?" Bobby suggested, somewhat trying to figure out what his potential sugar daddy was looking for. "Or just not good enough?" 

"What? No!" For a moment, Vian was searching for words, his ears pointing back and a little upwards in what looked like sincere determination. "I think it's just that they scare me. You know, they know so much about me, and I know nothing about them. It would be, like, kinda starting a relationship at two different points in time. It would really creep me out, and I don't think it could work."

Oddly enough, Bobby believed him every word he said. 

"That's really sweet," he said before he could think better of it. "I take it you were not insulted by the fact that I had no clue who you were when we first met?"

"No, not at all. It was nice, you know? I knew a bit more about you than you about me, and you were so... torn between running away and kicking me."

Bobby had to laugh at the description. "Was it that obvious?" 

"To me it was," Vian shrugged. "You were cautious, and alert, but you were not afraid. It was pretty cool." 

"I was so afraid I could hardly think," Bobby replied, only half joking. "I mean, do you have any idea what it means to a commoner finding a noble standing in his hallway?" 

"Oh I do, believe me," Vian replied, once again sounding entirely credible. "That's why I thought you were so impressive, you just didn't take any shit from me. And that's why I decided to give you my card. I'm not usually this forward." Again, his ears were drooping a little, giving his expression an entirely boyish, shy and yet playful cast. 

Bobby needed a heartbeat to stop stare at this picture-perfect image of 'adorable' and get his mind into thinking mode again. 

"Do you actually have any idea that your ears are totally giving away everything that you feel?" he asked, incredulous.

Vian nodded self-consciously. "They do that. And my tail's not better. But at least it's not - " Vian stopped with a mangled sound and grabbed his ears with both hands, holding them tight until another wave of violent twitching subsided. "Sorry. I'm sorry. It's getting worse when I am excited. And when someone talks about my ears. Me and my ears are kind of sensitive." 

"I can see..." Bobby replied, silently startled by the odd, fluttering sensation he was feeling in his chest. Maybe he had agreed to this date with entirely jaded motives, but right now, there was only one thing he could think of. "Would you mind if asked for a favor?" 

"Of course not," Vian replied instantly. "I mean, not as long as it's not going to get us in trouble." 

"I don't think so. It's a little bit personal, though," Bobby replied with a cheeky smile. Turning around so he could properly face Vian, he put on his most charming smile and asked: "Would you mind if I touched your ears?"

For a long moment, Vian's expression remained entirely unreadable. Then, almost as if despite himself, he broke into a wide smile. "I suppose it's only fair. After all, it's not as if there's many of my kind running around." 

Still smiling, he bent his head and held his ears as still as possible. 

"But be careful," Vian added, "they are kind of ticklish."

"Wouldn't have guessed," Bobby replied, dry as a bone. "I just want to see if they are as soft as the look." 

Cautiously, Bobby reached out and touched Vian's ears, and had to suppress a borderline hysteric squee. 

"And?"

"Exactly as I had thought," Bobby said. "Warm and soft as a sleeping dormouse." 

Vian cast him a quizzical look. "What the hell is a dormouse?"

"A small Terran rodent, some sort of mouse, famous for sleeping half of its life," Bobby recounted one of the very few school lessons he could remember. "And for being rather cute."

"Well, this is definitely the first time I have been compared to a cute, sleeping rodent." Vian smirked at Bobby and gestured to take up their walk toward the harbor. "Are they fierce?"

"Who?"

"Those... dormouses. Dormice?"

Bobby shrugged, laughing. "No idea. Though I really don't think so. They don't come in larger than, I don't know, an inch or something."

"Oh." Vian tried a polite smile, but his ears once again betrayed his puzzlement. "That's... cute."

"You don't like being cute, do you?" Bobby hazarded a guess. 

"Not particularly, no." Again, Vian shrugged. "I guess when you're a Phoenix Squire you don't want to be cute. That might sell a lot of mugs, but it won't help my knight in combat."

"Well, from what I hear you're not harmless in combat, either," Bobby added. "So... how does it feel to have one's face on a collectible mug?" 

Vian gave him a pained smile, showing his teeth. "Weird. Mostly weird. You know how your own voice feels strange when it's recorded and played back to you? It's about the same when you end up in the hands of the PR team and your face shows up in the same catalog of merchandise as all the other Phoenix Knights and their teams."

Silently, Bobby wondered if Vian really was just a nice guy or if this was a very well trained facade that he put on in public. But considering the way his ears gave away almost everything he felt, the latter option seemed really improbable. Could there be such a thing as a nice noble?

They had reached the waterfront by now, and were walking towards the harbor, arm in arm. The sun had set further, painting the sky flaming red, making the palm trees stand out as dark silhouettes. All around, the work day seemed to come to a close, shops closing and bars opening, people of all classes flocking to their respective watering holes. The air was filled with chatter and laughter, and compared to the grim atmosphere of Bellingham, it was incredible. 

"Now what are you looking at?" Vian suddenly asked, the tone of his voice clearly showing that he had been silently watching Bobby for quite a while. 

"I - Is it that obvious? I am trying very hard not to stare," Bobby replied. "It's very different from home."

"Is it?" 

"Absolutely." Bobby smiled, gesturing towards a laughing group of sailors sitting on the rim of a large fountain, sharing a bottle of wine. "People seem happy."

"I think it's the weather where you live. I'd be crabby, too, if it were raining sideways all the time." 

"True." Seeing a first opening for his game tonight, Bobby added wistfully: "Maybe I really should think about moving."

"Well, you ARE a commoner. You can go where ever you want." 

"Yeah. As long as I have the money to do so." Adding a sigh, Bobby continued. "I am just about to finish school, and I don't think I'll be getting a job anywhere."

"Why not?" Vian's tone was utterly honest.

"I was never particularly fond of school, and I think it was a mutual thing. I have no real talent besides being pretty, and I really don't want to work as a fish-gutter or a whore."

"Oh." For a moment, Vian's ears drooped with a mix of concentration and concern, then they perked up again. "Your school really sucks, has anyone ever told you that?" 

"No, actually not. I mean, yes, it was pretty crappy, but what do you know about it?"

"I had Wayne tested to see what he's good at, and he has a lot more talents than his school reports ever mentioned. They just didn't seem to care, and I think it's the same with you." 

There was no innuendo in Vian's remark, no lewd undertones, and to his surprise, Bobby found himself slightly at a loss how to react to that. Luckily, it was Vian who continued their conversation. 

"Also, school skill are overrated. I mean, do they ever teach anything really important at school, like dodging blows or defense against evil psions?" 

"Not at my school, no..." 

"See? And other schools are little better." 

"I think most schools try to prepare people for jobs, you know, like carpenter or secretary. Most people aren't cut out to be fighters."

Vian cast him a wry glance that was as much agreement as it was disapproval. "You're right, of course. I just meant, maybe you have some super skill that no one has ever tested you for. You'll surprise all of us, one day." 

"That is a very kind thing to say," Bobby replied politely, not really feeling it. 

"Mum always says that. 'What a pity for all those ice-skating aces born in the desert', she says." 

"Your mom? I thought she died when you were just born," Bobby interjected, though he immediately added: "At least, that's what I think I remember from reading the Quest Log."

"My biological mom died, yes, but I don't remember her." With a shrug and a smile, Vian explained: "I was talking about my 'real' mom, Jennifer."

"She sounds like a smart person."

"Oh, you have no idea." Rolling his eyes, Vian grinned. "Smartest person I know, and pretty annoying. But also very cool. I think you would like her a lot."

"Possibly. If I ever meet her." 

"When you meet her," Vian corrected him gently. 

Not really sure what to say, Bobby just smiled and turned his head to take in the scenery. Why in all the Empire was Vian expecting him to meet his mother one day? That would feel very weird, but then again, it was a lot less weird than most things he had heard about nobles so far. 

"So..." Vian asked, a little hesitant. "Do you want a drink now? Or do we go to the restaurant?"

Even after such a short time, Vian was ridiculously easy to read. 

"You are hungry," Bobby noted, amused at the guilty-as-charged look he got from Vian. "That's fine with me, I am getting hungry too. So where's the restaurant?"

“It’s on the other side of the harbor,” Vian explained, pointing up the hill rising in front of them. “So, it’s still a little walk from here, unless I just hover us across.”

“You would?” Bobby felt an odd tingle of excitement. “That would be really cool.” 

“I’d rather not... Humans are really fragile, and getting us over there without hurting you would be... tricky.”

“How can this be difficult to you?” Bobby asked. “I mean, I heard you kept Tiara in orbit all on your own when the N’bosoti attacked P2.”

“Yeah, that old story,” Vian replied with a dismissive gesture. “But she’s just one big chunk, that’s easy.” Taking a deep breath, he added: “I am a macrokinetic. The bigger the item and the more violent, the simpler for me. I can easier flatten a building than pass you the salt. Trying to thread a needle takes so much concentration I usually end up screaming and smashing something really big.”

“That sounds unusual...” Bobby replied, inwardly thinking that the image of the mighty psion chewing his lips in concentration while trying to thread a needle hovering in front of him was utterly cute. 

“Not really, though. There’s macrokinetics and microkinetics.” Vian replied, oblivious to Bobby’s dreamy smile. “When I train, I only learn to throw bigger things faster. Microkinetics learn how to move more things at the same time, with more precision. It’s really hard to do it differently, like writing with your off-hand.”

“So you’re saying we should rather walk?” Bobby asked with a smile. 

“Yes, I’d much more like it that way. Excited as I am it would be extra hard for me, and I really, really don’t want to be the guy who broke your ribs on the first date." With another guilty smile, he added: "Throwing people is only for emergencies.”

“Throwing people? A moment ago you said ‘hovering’.”

“Yeah, well. ‘Hovering’ sounds much nicer, don’t you think?” 

“I think we should walk to the restaurant.” Feeling a little dispirited at the long walk on a really empty stomach, Bobby looked around and added: “Or I could ask one of the guys at the harbor if they could just put us over. What do you say?” 

For a heartbeat, Vian looked quite at a loss, then he nodded. Not waiting for any other reaction, Bobby took him by his hand and pulled him towards the group of fishermen he had spotted sitting on the quay, mending their nets, seeming mostly occupied with trading gossip. 

The fishermen were initially just as surprised as Vian, but with a lot of smiles and a gentle hint that Vian indeed was the son of Sir Yaden, they got their passage to the other side of the harbor. 

Vian looked at the little rowboat with visible trepidation, but Bobby was in much too high spirits to let this little detail dissuade him. Just as he had before, he pulled Vian onto the boat with him and sat down, leaning against his shoulder and watching the first stars coming out in the darkening sky while he let a grizzled fisherman do the rowing.

Once on the other side of the harbor, they parted from their ferryman with many thanks on both sides, mostly due to the fact that the fisherman had some relative in a town that he insisted had been saved from assured destruction by Sir Yaden during the whole 'Zombie Pirates' affair. How many Phoenix Knights had been involved in that affair, anyway?

From the waterfront, it was only a short walk uphill until they reached the restaurant where Vian had booked a table for them. It didn't look overly posh, something that Bobby was immediately grateful for. Just a few outdoor tables under a grapevine covered pergola, covered in threadbare white linens and with a single candle in a mason jar each. 

"It's nothing too fancy," Vian said, almost apologetically. "But the food is great, I am told, and the view is stunning."

Following Vian's gesture, Bobby had to admit that his date had a flair for understatement. A fieldstone parapet was separating the dining area from the lower hill, and below them, the harbor spread in picture postcard perfect beauty. The light breeze carried the sound of the ships and the people in the bars that lined the market place, and the still water reflected the last patches of purple that were still hanging in the sky. 

"It IS stunning," Bobby admitted. "Thank you so much."

Vian just shrugged, a little shy. "You're welcome."

A tiny silence spread between them, but then the waiter brought the menu and immediately started telling them today's specials, which ended up being more than the flimsy menu was holding. It took them a little negotiation, but soon enough Bobby and Vian had decided on a decent lineup that sounded great and was approved by the waiter. 

Silently, Bobby wondered that any waiter back in Bellingham would have gotten flogged for voicing his opinion on his customers' choices, but then again, they weren't in Bellingham any longer. This might still have been Espen, but it definitely was rather far from home. 

Food arrived swiftly, and in copious amounts, and was so delicious that their conversation all but died down. Only when they were mostly finished, with Bobby holding his last glass of wine in his hands and pondering how to approach the important subjects of the evening did they talk again. 

“So...” Bobby started when their dessert was served. “You really think I could find a decent job somewhere?”

“Sure, why not?” Vian replied, mostly concentrating on the bowl of something chocolatey in front of him. 

“Because I don’t have any education worth talking off, and I really don’t want to work lying on my back.”

Vian looked up from his food, the cutest frown on his forehead. “Don’t say something like that. It feels as if you are hurting yourself when you do.”

“I will try not to,” Bobby said, silently wondering if Vian might be right. “But it’s still an honest sentiment, though.”

“Well, if you were on P2, on Tamriel, I’d say you could easily get some job as a waiter in one of the cafe’s and music bars along the beach. They’re always looking for handsome staff, and from what I can tell, the old ladies in the cafe tip ridiculously well.”

“Now do they?” Bobby smiled pensively into his coffee as if considering this for the first time. “I could move to P2, you are right. But I don’t have the cash for the trip, and definitely not enough to find me a place to stay...”

Vian nodded in agreement. “It would be nice having you closer by.”

“And I would like to live closer to you.” As Vian didn’t catch the drift after a few seconds, Bobby added: “I would need someone to sponsor me, though.”

“Yeah, that would be cool.” Vian’s ears looked as if he was racking his brain for someone who could do the job. 

Why the hell did he have to be so daft, Bobby wondered. Do I really have to spell it out?

“I thought, you know, maybe YOU could sponsor me...”

“Huh?” Vian’s attention snapped back to their table, his ears instantly on high alert. “I could get you to P2 on my Guild account, sure, but... How much money would you need?”

“Not much,” Bobby replied, trying to remain as nonchalant as he possibly could. “A few hundred credits per month, for the beginning, I think?”

Vian’s ears drooped like wilting leaves, making him look utterly miserable. “Oh,” he said, softly. “I don’t have that much money.” 

“Seriously?” After all that he had heard tonight, Bobby was more than willing to believe Vian. It still just didn’t make any sense. A few hundred bucks wasn’t that much, after all. Even rich commoner kids spent more on drinks in one night. “But you’re a noble, you ought to be swimming in money.”

“No...” Still looking rather embarrassed and unhappy, Vian tried to explain. “We may be famous, but we’re not rich. I’m not supposed to tell how much the emperor pays my dad, but it’s really not much. And from that, Dad pays me some pocket money as his squire.” 

Of course, from all the nobles he could have picked, Bobby had to take the cash-strapped one. Mostly to stifle a hysteric laugh, Bobby took a long sip from the excellent wine. This was definitely not going as he had hoped. 

“You are paying all this from your pocket money, seriously?”

Vian nodded, the tips of his ears still drooping. “I’d really love to help you, but I don’t have that money.”

There were a lot of questions on Bobby’s mind, all competing for attention. But right now, there was only one thing he really couldn’t get his head around. 

“Why in all the Empire are you doing all this, then?” he asked, gesturing both at the dinner table and the view over Port St. Anna. 

“Huh?” Vian seemed positively at a loss.

“I mean, you could have had me a lot cheaper, but you obviously aren’t the kind of guy pretending to be rich when you aren’t. So, what’s your game?”

“My... game?” 

With everyone else, Bobby would have suspected that they were just trying to evade his question. With Vian, though, he was pretty sure he honestly wasn’t getting it. 

“Do you really think I needed all this to be impressed?” Bobby tried another angle.

“What? No. I thought you were worth it.” Vian looked startled, but at least no longer completely confused, adding with a shy look: “I still do.” 

This time, it was Bobby’s turn to give a slightly embarrassed laugh. He couldn’t tell for sure, but right now it felt like the nicest, most genuine compliment he had ever heard. And there it was again, that fluttering sensation in his chest and his throat, this weird feeling as if he was in an elevator going up and down at the same time. There was no doubt about it, he was crushing on Vian, and hard at that. How utterly unprofessional. 

“What did you mean with ‘you could have had me cheaper’?” Vian asked unexpectedly. “I can’t buy you, you’re a commoner.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Suddenly, Bobby felt jaded and slutty, soiled, even. An entirely new sensation, and an entirely unwelcome one. Just because he had only very little qualms selling himself did not give him the right to assume that everyone else was eager to buy. And now that he came to think of it, he really didn’t want Vian to think of him in this way. 

“I just wanted to say that...” Bobby tried to rescue the situation, “You’re so sweet, you wouldn’t have had to do all this. I’d have just as happily shared a shrimp sandwich with you on the pier.” 

“Well,” Vian replied impishly, his ears perking up. “Maybe next time?”

“Maybe.” Seeing the hint of insecurity in Vian’s eyes, Bobby immediately added: “Though I would rather like there to be a next time.”

Now, Vian broke into a full-on grin. Nodding as if they had just agreed to some sort of naughty, secret pact, he then turned back to his dessert and started scraping the last rests out of the bowl. Visibly not happy with the results, he hesitated for a heartbeat, put aside his spoon and started licking the bowl clean. His tongue sounded oddly coarse on the glass, like a cat’s, leading to all sorts of naughty ideas in Bobby’s head. 

“Sorry,” Vian said once he had put down his now spotlessly clean bowl and noticed Bobby watching him. “Hope it wasn’t too embarrassing. But it was just soo good.” 

“It was sweet.” Leaning back, Bobby finished the last of his wine and took another long look down at the harbor, the lights of the bars reflecting in the dark water. “Would you mind if I smoke?”

“Actually, yes.” A little sheepish, Vian tapped his nose. “I’m a lot more sensitive than a full human, and sorry to say that, but cigarettes just stink to me.”

“Oh. And here I sit, having smoked all afternoon. You could have said something.”

“Not really the way to start a date, is it?” Vian grinned. “Hey sweetheart, you look lovely, but you smell like an ashtray?”

“I’ve heard worse opening lines,” Bobby replied honestly. 

“What kind of people are you hanging out with, saying things like that to you?!” Vian asked, sounding rather protective in a very chivalrous way. “I hope you left them on the spot.”

“No, I continued having my date with them.” Rolling his eyes, Bobby added: “I didn’t think I’ve had much options.” 

“Seriously, you?” Looking genuinely stunned, Vian needed a moment before he broke into a wide grin. “I think we both still have a lot of ‘getting to know each other’ to do.” 

“I am very much looking forward to that.” Smiling at Vian, Bobby took this as his cue to move things onwards. Gently, he touched Vian’s foot with his own, slowly working his way up his calf. “What do you say - we move somewhere more comfortable?”

“Why, are you feeling - oh, that.” Looking down at Bobby’s foot and back at Bobby again, he explained with a slightly shaky smirk on his face. “I - I don’t think I would feel comfortable if we moved this fast. Please don’t get me wrong, I think you’re gorgeous, but I really wouldn’t like it that way. You know, like using one of my groupies.”

For a long moment, Bobby was speechless, his foot remaining motionless somewhere halfway up Vian’s calf. This wasn’t just some polite means for Vian to get into Bobby’s pants, he realized with sudden clarity. Maybe somewhere along the line, it was, too, but not primarily. For Vian, this was a date. A proper date, one of the kind that ended with a serious relationship. Bobby slowly felt his world slip out from under him. 

“How can you even be real?” he finally asked, causing Vian’s ears to stand askew once more. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean - you’re acting like a fairytale knight, for fuck’s sake. And the more I get to know of you, the more I think it’s not an act. I never thought guys like you could be real.”

“So... that’s a good thing?” Vian’s ears perked up ever so slightly. 

“A very good thing.”

Vian looked as if he had scored a jackpot. “And it’s okay if I just walked you home once we’re finished here?”

“Will I get a goodnight kiss at least?” 

“I think a kiss would be okay,” Vian replied conspiringly.

“Then I am perfectly fine.” 

Bobby smiled and gently stroked Vian’s leg one last time before he put down his foot. 

This evening had definitely not turned out the way he had wanted it to, he silently thought by himself. He had come to find a sugardaddy, willing to sell himself just to get some cash and a chance to escape the confines of his life.  
A few hours later, he had made no progress at all in that regard. Instead, he was sitting there with butterflies in his stomach, facing a very real and very exciting prospect of having found the cutest, sexiest and most chivalrous potential boyfriend in the entire Empire. 

If this is what falling in love feels like, money can kiss my ass, Bobby decided. This is priceless.


	2. Crown and Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally having found a proper little job that does not involve sexual intercourse, Bobby is visited by an unlikely acquaintance from the ghetto...

Laughing, Bobby winked at the elderly woman he had just helped into her massive fur coat. In return, she gave him a slightly reproachful but glowing smile and waddled out of the cafe. 

He turned back to her table and started gathering up the dishes, only to find a 20-credit note neatly tucked underneath the gold-rimmed saucer. Apparently, this was going to be one hell of a profitable day. 

With a contend smile, Bobby continued cleaning up her table, returned the dishes to the kitchen and laid out a new set of starched linens for the next customer. 

He had only started working here at the 'Crown and Lance' three weeks ago, but he was already wondering why in all the Empire he hadn't thought of this years ago. 

The 'Crown and Lance' was a glorified pastry shop and coffee house, and while the baked goods were barely better than average, it had one thing that set the shop apart from all other competition - class. Located just a little down the road from the palace in Bellingham, it managed to look like a place where nobles would want to shop. Brightly lit, impeccably clean, with gilded scrollwork and wine-red lacquer, the shop looked pretty much like a jewel box, and the pastries were presented with such pomp and reverence that they might just be jewels after all. The waiters and staff all wore elaborate red-and-gold liveries, and of course the 'Crown and Lance' was the appointed purveyor for all things pastry for all relevant local nobles. 

For most of his life, Bobby had ignored the shop. But after his talk with Vian a few weeks ago, he had started thinking. The shop was already half a step closer to nobles than he would have liked. But the prices were ridiculously high, and that meant the tips would be, too. 

So he had started talking with some of the staff of the shop, and before long he had the first job interview in his life. At least, the first job interview where he got to keep his clothes on. 

Not having any clue about waiting had been much less of a problem than Bobby had feared. He was nimble enough so he didn't fall over his feet, and whenever he flunked something, he knew how to be charming enough so it didn't matter. A little miffed at his 'luck' with his customers, his colleagues had started giving him the difficult ones, only to find out that he could wrap them around his little finger in no time, too. 

If there was one thing Bobby was good at, it was being charming. 

Of course, it helped that the red of the liveries didn't clash with the red of his hair, and that Mandy had proven amazingly skilled at 'correcting' the cut of Bobby's standard livery until it fit like a glove. Even though the other girls and boys serving at the 'Crown and Lance' were anything but ugly, compared to Bobby, they looked like daisies next to a rose. 

This shop was full of elderly people with too much money and not enough fun, and Bobby had all intention of relieving them of as much money as possible, even if that meant smiling until his face hurt. It still beat most other options by a mile. 

And on some days, the pay was almost as good as the one he could get when while working on his back for Julio Mostarda. 

"Bobby?" One of the girls working in the kitchen stopped him when he returned to the station for some more cutlery. "There's some Youh'Kai hobo in the backyard, insisting to talk to you." 

"And?" 

"Well, she's making quite a fuss, and I think if you know anything about that, you should go down and sort it out before they call the police."

Bobby really wasn't in the mood to give up a single minute of his shift for some Youh'Kai throwing a tantrum between the garbage containers. Time was money, literally. But on the other hand, a Youh'Kai 'hobo' could be anyone not dressed like a rich commoner, so there was a good chance it actually might be someone he knew. 

"Did she give a name?"

"Yeah, but it was just some alien stammering, not a proper name." The girl tried to remember for a moment, but then shrugged. "Really no idea. But she does seem to know you." 

"How so?"

"I..." The girl blushed and looked away. "She was using words I really shouldn't repeat. She was getting quite abusive." 

Bobby wasn't quite sure if he ought to feel insulted or amused. People who knew him used words that weren't suitable for polite company. My, who would have thought? In the end, he decided not to care, and just shrugged. 

"Please tell Minka to cover my tables for a moment," he told the girl. "I'll be right back." 

She nodded and slipped away to talk to another waitress currently on shift, one that surely wouldn't mind helping him out for a while. 

Swiftly, Bobby used the maze of narrow corridors to get to the rear of the building and into the backyard. Even in the hallway that led to the back door, he could already hear an elderly woman kick up a racket, her raspy voice hurling insults so creative they made even Bobby blush. 

Stepping out into the courtyard, he found the scene almost exactly as he had expected. 

Mother G'dina was standing right in the middle of everything, surrounded by two burly coachmen and one of the bakers, trying to get her off grounds. On the sidelines, a gaggle of waitresses and kitchen staff were looking on, fascinated and appalled in equal measure. It was hilarious to see how that frail, tiny woman was able to cow all these people into cautious reluctance by using nothing but her barbed tongue. They treated her like a rabid dog.

"Hey guys, cut it!" Bobby yelled, waiting until he had everyone's attention. "I'd be careful around her, her curses might actually work. I'll handle this." 

The coachmen stepped aside with a mocking gesture, apparently looking forward to see that posh boy in his livery getting ripped apart by the smelly alien hobo crone. But nothing of that sort happened. 

"Mother G'dina," Bobby greeted the priestess of Khastai with a respectful bow. "We are honored by your visit." 

The old Youh'Kai let out a cackling laughter. "Well, obviously not all of you." 

"It's still an honor, if they see it or not." 

Again, she laughed, this time sounding a little surprised. 

"You little silver-tongued devil. You are getting really good at this." Giving a wry glance at the men standing next to her, she added: "Can we talk?" 

"Yes, but not here." Nodding politely at all the other folks in the courtyard, Bobby walked over to her. Pointing at the filthy-looking bundle on the ground next to her, he asked: "Can I help you with that?" 

"Nah. Would only get your fine clothes dirty." 

With a wiry strength that seemed incongruous with her crooked bearing, she hauled the bundle up onto her shoulders and started walking towards the gate that let out onto the back alley. Everyone in the courtyard gave her a wide berth, relieved at not having to touch her. 

Bobby followed, using the moment to take a renewed look at his companion. The last time he had seen Mother G'dina had been at last year's Nach'Tarr's Night celebrations, where she had been offering ba'ata to the Youh'Kai in the ghetto. In the murky dark, she had looked like a mutilated creature right out of some horror movie, and the bright daylight didn't do anything to dispell that impression. If possible, it even enhanced the deep unease her looks evoked. 

Mother G'dina wore a dirty blouse over an ancient wraparound skirt that had lost any color it might have possessed a long time ago. Her feet were bare, dirty and calloused, her skin pale blue all over. Her white hair was bound into thick dreadlocks except for her shaved forehead, faintly yellow from age. 

But the really unsettling details only appeared the longer Bobby watched her. Her fingers and toes were missing several digits, her bone ridges were not carved but jagged and mutilated, almost butchered. Scars were covering almost every bit of her skin, some decorative, other not, scraggly tattoos scrawling across them in places. Her nostrils were perforated, her teeth filed down to different shapes or even drilled in patterns. 

Bobby had to turn his head away to stop staring. 

No wonder the folks at the 'Crown and Lance' had called her a hobo. Hell, for all he knew, Mother G'dina could be sleeping on the street for real. At least, she did smell like it. 

They were barely out of earshot when she remarked: 

"Those people you are working with are idiots." 

"So." Bobby shrugged. "Does that make them better or worse than the rest?"

"Just the same." Her small eyes sparkling, Mother G'dina grinned. "You are not really planning on working here for the rest of your life, are you?" 

"Oh, good lord, no! It's just a way to earn money now that I am out of school." The thought was so absurd Bobby had to laugh out loud. Feeling G'dina's questioning look, he added: "I plan on moving to P2. I have met someone living there, and we... I think he is the dragon. You know, the one Nach'Tarr was talking about."

"No, I don't know," she replied acerbically. "You didn't tell me what he told you, because I asked you not to." 

"Oh, right." 

For a moment, Bobby was unsure what to say. He really wanted to talk to G'dina about what happened with Vian. After all, she would be the only one not thinking him crazy for assuming that there was any shred of truth in that prophecy, or whatever it had been. 

"Now come on, tell me about him," G'dina finally egged him on. "I can stand it."

"He said my life would depend on my answer to the dragon's question," Bobby told her. "And I think I have met that dragon."

"So what did you answer?"

"I said yes," Bobby replied, grinning. "I agreed to date him. Twice, by now."

"But you have no idea if that was THE question." 

"Not even remotely." 

Mother G'dina didn't answer, at least, not in words. But her look was sympathetic, understanding, and mildly amused at the absurdity of it all. She understood him. She didn't ask if he finally believed that it had been Nach'Tarr who had sent him a prophecy that night. Not that Bobby could have answered that particular question anyway. She didn't caution him, didn't have any smart-assed advice like any other grown-up would have had. She just looked at him, smiling faintly. 

"You like him?" 

"Yeah." Feeling an uncharacteristic blush welling up, Bobby instinctively looked at his feet. Thinking of Vian touched him more than he would have thought possible. It had made the decision to move to P2 really easy. Even if things didn't work out between them, P2 would be much more a place for him than Espen. They had already made plans on where to look for a place for Bobby when they had their second date a week ago, sharing the promised shrimp sandwich on the pier together. And besides, Bobby silently hoped things would work out between them, after all. At least once, he really wanted to see what that boy was able to do with his tongue. 

"I really like him," Bobby concluded his silent reminiscence. 

"That's good." Again, she nodded encouragingly. "Just make sure he treats you right."

"Oh, I am sure he will." There it was again, that odd, nervous feeling in his chest when he thought of Vian's ears, twitching insecurely. "He'll be a Phoenix Knight, one day." 

Mother G'dina just stared at him, her face frozen halfway between gently mocking disbelief and genuine surprise. After a long moment, she asked in barely more than a whisper: 

"We are talking about Vian, son of Colin, here, aren't we?" 

Bobby nodded, not even bothering to wonder how she knew. Probably, he wouldn't have wanted to hear that answer, anyway. 

Mother G'dina in return gave a snorting chuckle, a sound both surprisingly ugly and genuine. 

"And here I stand like a doddering old woman, telling you to be careful. I really should have known better." Setting her bag down with a sigh, she stopped walking and straightened her skirt in a futile gesture of grooming. "The gods have plans with you, Bobby Dover, and I really should stop presuming I could help or hinder in any way."

"Would you believe me if I told you that you do help?" Bobby asked instantly. "You're weird and ugly, but you're also the only grown up I think I can talk to. I like you. I trust you."

Visibly touched, G'dina harrumphed something unintelligible. Then, giving Bobby a sidelong glance, she added: "Humans. There really is no end to the ways you can surprise." 

Bobby just shrugged. 

"Did you just come over to say hello or was there anything special?"

"Right!" Diving into a sidepocket of her bag, she rummaged around for a moment and came back with a small vial of a startlingly green liquid. "I got tired of waiting for you. I am good enough now, and I am not getting any younger."

"Good enough at what?" 

"Tattooing." Grinning widely and exposing much more of her mutilated teeth than Bobby had ever wanted to see, G'dina positively beamed at him. "We talked about that last Nach'Tarr's Night. You said whenever I got good enough, you would let me tattoo you." 

"I don't think I recall the same conversation as you do..." Bobby started politely, but already after a few seconds of hard staring, G'dina started paddling backwards. 

"Right, not exactly that way. But I AM good, now. Good enough to do you justice. And I'd really love to work on you. I even found the right color!" Shaking the little vial again, she volunteered: "I tested it on a few other humans, and the color turns just like your eyes once inside the skin, and there were basically no side effects." 

In a way, Bobby was completely charmed by Mother G'dina's blunt attempt of selling him her plans. Not that he needed any sort of convincing. He had seen enough Youh'Kai body art to know that if nothing else, it looked dastardly striking. And if there was a genuine priestess of Khastai telling him she was good enough for the job, how much better could it possibly get? 

Still, for the sake of the moment, he just had to leave her dangling a moment longer. 

"Side effects?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow, knowing perfectly well she wouldn't want to lie to him. 

"Yeah, well, you know, nothing serious." Squirming a little, she finally admitted: "I should take some extra precautions when I work on you. You know, clean tools, disinfectants. A shower, maybe. You humans are so sensitive." 

"That would be most kind of you, mother," he replied, only partially mocking.

"So you agree?"

"You had me the moment you asked." 

"Want to see my designs?" The look on her face was half insecure, half testing. 

"I said I trust you." Bobby replied honestly. "And I mean it."

Mother G'dina nodded, apparently deeply satisfied. "It'll take quite a while."

"I have the mornings off. So as long as we can work in short sessions, we should be fine."

"It'll hurt." 

Bobby only cast her a wry glance. 

"It'll hurt more than a normal tattoo. A lot more." 

"Will it be worth the pain?" 

Mother G'dina's face split in a beaming grin as if he had just called her the most beautiful woman in the Empire. 

"Yes, every bit." Bowing her head deeply in an oddly humble gesture, she added: "I swear by my honor."

"Then it will be a fair price to pay." Nodding to each other in a way Youh'Kai sealed agreements, much like humans would shake hands, Bobby felt his heart pound in his chest. "But talking about payment - I can't give you much."

This time, G'dina snorted derisively. "As if I cared about money." 

"It's not about money," Bobby replied. "It's about gratitude and respect for your work." 

"I am not a craftsman. I am a priestess." Painting wild, mystical gestured into the air, G'dina chuckled at her own joke. "Well, and maybe a little bit of an artist."

She returned the vial to it's corner of her bag, then she returned her attention to Bobby. 

"You will wear my work on your body, probably long after I have passed away. My work will accompany you on your travels, and everyone who looks at you can respect my good work. Taking money is for tattooing butterflies or soccer club crests. I fully intend on making a work of art out of you." With a dirty little chuckle, she added: "At least, a little more of an artwork than mother nature has made you." 

"Oh." 

Knowing that there was neither flattery nor bragging in her little speech, Bobby was at a complete lack of words. Well, maybe he could say one thing. 

"Thank you, Mother G'dina." 

"Nah, thank me when it's finished." With a conspiring smile, she shouldered her bag again. "I'll let you know when I found a room close by that's clean enough for this kind of work, and discrete enough for the two of us." 

"I'll be ready." 

"Good." Nodding goodbye, she started to walk away, but then turned around and grinned at him over her shoulder. "We're going to have so much fun!"


	3. Anger Management

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vian comes to pick up Bobby for his move to P2

With a little squeak of distress, Vian pulled up the hood of his shirt to cover his ears against the slow falling drizzle. Even though Bobby had repeatedly reassured him that it wasn't always raining in Bellingham, he had yet to see the city without heavy clouds and veiled by thin drizzle. His only consolation was that this would be his last visit to the place for the foreseeable future.

He was here to pick up Bobby to help him move his few possessions over to his new flat on P2.

Just the thought that Bobby would now be living in Disari, only a short hop by glider away from Yaden's Island, made Vian giddy with joy and his tail twitch with happy anticipation. Not that Espen was far for someone who could get a long distance port at any time from the Psions' Guild, like Vian could. It just felt far away. Having Bobby so much closer made Vian feel like he would be that much better able to protect his boyfriend. He wasn't quite sure from what - but he would definitely lay his life on the line to do it.

The thought that Bobby was now officially his boyfriend made him grin. He had asked Bobby after they had gone flat hunting in Disari, when they had celebrated finding a cheap, reasonably nice place for Bobby to stay. Maybe a cheap pizza joint with ancient grease stains on the table wasn't the luminous place a Phoenix Knight to-be should use to ask the important question whether Bobby wanted to be his boyfriend. But Bobby had said yes and the pizza had been quite good so Vian had no regrets.

Well, semi-official boyfriend. So far, the Phoenix Knight PR-team was still in the dark. As was Wayne.

Vian sighed deeply, pulling his hood deeper over his twitching ears. He still hadn't worked up the courage to tell his pet that he was dating his younger brother. It wasn't really that he was scared of Wayne's threats to shave his tail or do other unspeakable things to him if he ever so much as looked at Bobby. What he was worried about was the peace and easy camaraderie that made living in their small hut by the beach so nice. If Wayne got really upset, that would be lost. A least for a while.

Of course he was fully aware that it was getting worse with each day he waited. He didn't need Colin or Siva telling him that. Which they didn't. They just looked. He'd tell Wayne. When he was ready. 

Right now, he just wanted to hug Bobby close, bury his nose against his boyfriend's neck, deeply, inhale the mixed scents of pastries, slightly musty attic and that one scent that was entirely uniquely Bobby.

After an especially ugly fight with his mother, Bobby had moved out from the family flat to spend the last few weeks before his move holed up in an unused storage room under the roof of the café he was working at. His endless charm had somehow wriggled that favour out of his boss.

Vian gazed inside the windows of the Crown & Lance longingly. The café was lit with golden light and the many pastries on display looked gorgeous. Standing outside in the rain it looked like a heavenly refuge. With food.

Bobby had made him promise that this time he would wait outside. The last time he had picked up Bobby from work, the whole café had been in an uproar over the Phoenix Knight squire suddenly appearing in their midst. That most of the elderly, female customers seemed to consider him irresistibly adorable hadn't helped either.

Vian grimaced at the memory. Sir Ekai had made no secret of the fact how glad he was that soon, he wouldn't be the cutest Phoenix Knight on the board anymore. Vian didn't quite get how the PR-team planned on marketing him as cute and sweet. After all, he had a rather bad temper and a talent for wholesale destruction. And his people skills still left a lot to be desired. The PR-team didn't seem daunted by these facts at all. 

They were hungrily waiting for the day when he would be sworn in as a full knight, when they would be able to unleash the full merchandise storm they had planned for him. It made Vian's fur crawl to think of the fake ears that were worn on a headband, the clip on tail, the furry gloves and house shoes. Not that his feet were as big as those ridiculous house shoes. Actually his feet fit into those shoes comfortably.

Vian sighed impatiently. What the hell was keeping Bobby so long? Again, he looked through the window inside to try and spot his boyfriend among the waiters. Maybe he had to help out with some last minute emergency. But Bobby was nowhere to be seen.

After waiting a few more minutes, Vian's hood was starting to get so wet it soaked through on his ears. Definitely too wet to wait any longer. Maybe one of the other waiters would know where Bobby was and if not at least Vian would be able to order a cup of hot chocolate and wait inside. He slipped in as inconspicuously as possible not to draw the attention of the cooing old ladies and sneaked over to the door that let from the public part of the café back to the kitchen. 

The next waiter who came through carried a big tray full of various pots and cups smelling of the all hot drinks known to mankind. She still stopped when she noticed Vian.

"Can I help you?" she asked, balancing her load with admirable skill.

"I'm looking for Bobby." Vian said, smiling at her hopefully. "My boyfriend." He added, just to hear the sound of it.

"Oh." She breathed, apparently just recognizing him now. "It's you." 

She looked a little faint and steadied herself against the wall, while Vian got ready to catch the tray. There was no need for his chivalrous rescue, though, as she quickly recovered.

"It's a great honour to meet you, Sir Vian." She smiled back at him, looking rather cute herself. "Bobby has talked so much about you."

Vian didn't bother correcting her on the 'sir'. He also resisted asking what Bobby had said about him. "Have you seen him?" he asked instead. "I was supposed to pick him up about half an hour ago."

Now a frown appeared on her face. "He went out last night to say goodbye to his friends. For a last bar crawl, he said. Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him today at all. I'm not sure he actually came back."

Her words made icy fingers creep up Vian's back that had nothing to do with the trickle of cold water which had found its way inside his shirt. There were plenty of hostile forces out there who had reason to harm his family. If they somehow had found out about Bobby, they might have done any number of horrible things. Vian felt his tail fluff up at the mere thought. If anyone had hurt Bobby, he would tear them limb from limb. While his father fully subscribed to the Emperor's maxim of trying a peaceful approach first, Vian himself leaned more to the shoot first, ask questions later way of the Empress.

For a moment, he considered calling in his family, but then he checked himself. Maybe Bobby had just crashed on some friend's couch. Maybe it was something completely harmless and calling in help would alert Wayne to the fact that Vian was dating Bobby. Definitely not the way he wanted Wayne to find out. He'd try to figure this out on his own first. After all, he was aspiring to become a Phoenix Knight. He better be able to find his missing boyfriend without running to daddy on the first sign of trouble.

"What bars does he usually hang out at?" Vian asked.

He'd simply follow the procedures of investigation he had been trained in at the Tower. All that hard work had to be good for something after all.

The girl quickly handed her tray over to some other server and then gave him a rather short list of Bobby's favourite clubs and even marked them on a little fold out tourist map that she grabbed from the stack on the counter. Vian thanked her and then noticed her wide-eyed, hopeful expression that mixed with a shy biting of her lower lip.

"You want an autograph?" he asked her with a cheeky grin that was only a little forced, considering how worried he was about Bobby. After all, he still had an image to uphold for the Emperor and the Empire.

"Please?" she cooed in that fan girl way he hated.

"Sure."

He quickly signed his name onto the back of recipe she held out to him and watched with just a little exasperation as she clutched it to her chest.

"Thank you." She breathed and then fluttered her eyelashes at him. "If you can't find Bobby, I come off work in about two hours…"

"Erh…" Vian answered rather defensively, his right ear twitching rather violently. Not bothering with a more elaborate answer he fled the café, map a little crumpled in his fist.

\---

It was a perfect day to sleep in and have a strong coffee and hot bread rolls right next to the open fireplace. Antonio Mostarda stretched his legs closer to the heat and sighed contentedly. Outside, a cold wind was driving an equally cold rain almost horizontally against the panes of his salon window. Even though it was past noon, Antonio was still clad in his dressing robe and comfortable slippers. The business he was running was mostly nocturnal, so getting up late was a necessity as well as a luxury.

Running a moderately sized crime cartel was quite a lot of work. When everyone working for you was a crook, it took constant control to keep things running smoothly. There were a few gems in his family enterprise but just as many rotten apples.

He took a small sip from his coffee and then unfolded the newspaper to study the sports pages. Betting was a large part of his organization and his personal favourite. Especially horse and dog racing. 

With no appointments in the next two hours, he planned on a relaxed early afternoon wake up period when a knock on the door startled him out of his enjoyment. Not a soft, gentle knock either, like all his servants were required to use, but a hard, impatient rap.

"What?!" he barked, rather annoyed at the interruption.

The door opened immediately to admit Marco. The huge man doubled as his personal bodyguard and enforcer. Antonio had picked him up years ago when he had been just a street thug teenager and moulded him into a respectable young man with quite impeccable manners. Right now, though, Marco looked almost grey and his hands were nervously clenching on the seam of his jacket. With deep surprise, Antonio realized that his big, bad bodyguard looked very, very scared.

He didn't wait for Antonio to ask why he had been so unceremoniously disturbed either.

"Mr. Mostarda, there a noble downstairs who wants to talk to you immediately." And if that wasn't bad enough, Marco added. "A Phoenix Knight squire. Sir Vian Dracon."

A noble demanding to speak with you was never good news. It usually meant that you had done something to piss them off and that could quickly end fatal. Antonio always tried to make sure that he was on the very best of terms with the local nobility, doing anything in his power to please them. That way he would have someone who might be inclined to benevolently shield him should he ever get on the bad side of some other noble.

With a Phoenix Knight squire, that option was void. Especially with one who's father and sister were Phoenix Knights. And who wielded the psychic powers of a minor deity. And had the quite obvious favour of the Emperor.

Antonio kept up to date with imperial news and Sir Vian Dracon was bad, bad news. If he decided to level all of Bellingham, eradicating every living soul in town, likely no one would ask why and assume he'd had good reason. So if he decided to shred some lowly commoner like Antonio Mostarda, nobody would even blink.

Despite the heat from the fireplace, he was suddenly in a cold sweat.

"Did he say what he wants?" he asked Marco, his voice now as shaky as that of his bodyguard.

"He said he is looking for his boyfriend." Marco answered. He swallowed hard. "He seems to be very angry."

Even with his thoughts racing at light speed, Antonio couldn't come up with an explanation why Sir Vian would come to him looking for a boyfriend. He was dealing in drugs, prostitution and betting. Not in murder, robbery or kidnapping. And even if he did he certainly wouldn't have touched any noble's boyfriend with a ten foot pole. Maybe he would even be able to convince Sir Vian of his innocence before he was torn limb from limb.

Or he could send down Marco and make the boy stall for time while he himself tried to flee. Antonio quickly dismissed the idea. Triggering the Dracon's hunting reflex was the last thing he wanted to do. Maybe some brilliant supervillain had a chance of hiding from a noble with the resources of the Phoenix Knight Tower at his beck and call. A small time mobster from Bellingham, Espen, certainly would be caught rather quickly and painfully.

"Mr. Mostarda?" Marco reminded him anxiously that he was still standing that and that there was an angry killer psychic in his hallway, waiting for him.

"Yes," Antonio raked his shaking hands through suddenly sweaty hair, "yes, I'm coming." He needed to steady himself on the armrest of his chair as his legs didn't really want to support his effort to face the threat.

Marco fell into step with him, being the usual looming shadow, but in this moment Antonio found his presence rather distracting and even threatening. He couldn't afford any mistakes that might aggravate the noble further.

"Wait up here." He told Marco and the huge man looked intensely grateful and relieved.

Sir Vian was impossible to miss.

The young Dracon was stalking up and down the entrance hallway of the manor like a predator looking for something to tear to pieces. Being an avid reader of the Quest Log, Antonio easily recognized the half alien. Only that on the glossy photos in the magazine, Sir Vian's teeth didn't look quite as sharp, his alien green eyes weren't full of barely suppressed rage, his ears not almost entirely flattened against his skull. That he was also quite wet from the rain didn't make him look any more friendly.

He rounded on Antonio before he was even halfway down the stairs. 

"Where is he?!" Sir Vian hissed, baring his teeth even more.

"Milord." Antonio opened the conversation with a deep bow. Showing a noble submission was usually a good way to live another minute. "I'm afraid my servant hasn't informed me who exactly it is you are looking for, but I assure you I will do everything in my power to assist you."

For a moment he was sure the young noble would give in to the murderous rage that flashed across his face, but then Sir Vian breathed deeply, visibly fighting to calm himself. It felt like standing in an icy gale to Antonio and he couldn't resist the need to hunch in on himself.

"I am looking for Bobby Dover," Sir Vian growled, "and I have been told that he was last seen being carried out of a club by your nephew Julio. Drugged and unconscious."

The name wouldn't have rung any bell with Antonio if it hadn't been mentioned in conjunction with his nephew Julio. The youngest son of his sister was a lazy, arrogant parasite in Antonio's opinion, but he also was the absolute darling of his sister and in her eyes couldn't do any wrong. So she had talked Antonio into giving the brat a position in his organization. Putting him in charge of the scheduling for Antonio's high class prostitutes had seemed like a safe enough choice. But lately the ungrateful idiot had constantly been complaining about pretty much everything. Including one Bobby Dover who apparently refused to work for him.

With deep dread, Antonio realized that maybe Julio had taken it upon himself to 'convince' the boy.

Julio was family. Which meant Antonio had an obligation to protect him.

Antonio needed about two seconds to decide that those obligations had become void the instant Julio kidnapped the boyfriend of a Phoenix Knight squire. He'd rather explain to his sister how her precious son had ended up squashed to a pulp by a noble then end up squashed himself.

"I am devastated to hear of my nephew's transgression against your boyfriend." He declared, his voice still trembling with very real fear. "He deserves whatever punishment you see fit, milord…"

"Where is he?!" He was interrupted by a Sir Vian.

An excellent question. There were a few places where his idiot nephew might have holed up with his prey. Antonio mopped some sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his dressing robe.

"If you give me a moment, milord, I will make a few phone calls and try to locate Julio for you." He pleaded.

"You have five minutes." The Dracon growled.

Antonio got to his study in record time. With his mind kicked into overdrive by fear and adrenalin, he at least knew exactly who to call. Julio never went anywhere without his merry little band of sidekicks. While Julio rarely answered his phone when his uncle called, his cronies had quickly learned that they could not afford such antics.

When Antonio hurried back to the waiting noble three minutes, later he had an address. And helpful directions on how to get there.

"I am so, so sorry for Julio's behaviour." He repeated, once more bowing deeply. He was desperately trying to come up with more grovelling, but only came up blank. Offering to shoot his own nephew probably wouldn't appease the Dracon.

"If I find out you had anything to do with this, I will come back and kill you." Sir Vian declared, quite coldly and calm which made it all the more scary. "Don't think there is anywhere you can hide. You can't."

Then he turned around and stalked out.

When he had cleared the door, Antonio's legs gave out. With an undignified little squeak, he crumpled where he stood. 

He was still wringing his dressing robe, muttering a prayer of thanks, when Marco found him a few minutes later.

\---

The first thing Bobby noticed through the haze was that wail. 

It was a high-pitched sound, ebbing and flowing, almost soothing. There were moments of relative quiet, in which Bobby was almost able to fall asleep again. 

Then the wail rose once more, each time managing to get Bobby a little more awake despite the drugs still coursing in his bloodstream. 

Groaning, Bobby turned to his other side, hoping to get at least a little more sleep. His head throbbed with pain, every muscle ached and he just wanted to sleep a tiny little bit longer. Was that really too much to ask for?

Somewhere outside, the wail subsided. For a moment, Bobby was filled with gratitude for the silence, hoping he would manage to slip back into sleep once again. But then he realized it wasn't quiet, not exactly. 

Instead of the howling wail, he could hear someone sobbing, babbling something incoherent in deep, ragged breaths, interrupted by jagged breaks that spoke of unbearable pain. 

Horrified, Bobby opened his eyes. 

He was lying in a narrow bed underneath a scratchy blanket. The room was lit by a cheap, naked light bulb, and through the open door, Bobby could guess daylight on the far end of the hallway. 

Where the hell was he? 

Even though he tried hard to remember, Bobby was rather sure he had never before been to this place. And thinking of it, he didn't have any recollection whatsoever on how he had ended up here. He wasn't even particularly sure on what his last memory was at all. 

Outside, the wailing started again. 

Only now, Bobby knew it was a human being, screaming on top of his lungs in so much pain that there was nothing human left. Pure, animal agony was reverberating through the whole place, and it made Bobby want to throw up.

Heaving with fear and sickness, Bobby hauled himself into some sort of upright position. His feet planted wide apart on the ground, his hands holding tightly to the edge of the bed, he just sat there until he was sure he wasn't going to keel over instantly. 

The wail continued incessantly. Sometimes it rose, reaching a pitch that couldn't be maintained by anyone still caring for their vocal cords. Then it softened to a mere scream, as if the one screaming was loosing their strength after all. 

For a heartbeat, Bobby caught himself wondering what the hell was possibly going on there, but then immediately decided that some questions better remained unasked and hopefully unanswered. Whatever made a human scream like this definitely was something he didn't want to make any further acquaintance with. 

He had to get out of here, this much was clear. Cautiously, Bobby tried rising to his feet, smiling grimly when he managed a few wobbly steps on his own without falling face-first onto the floor. 

His head was swimming as if he had been drugged. For a moment, Bobby wondered if this was how the boys felt after Julio Mostarda had drugged and raped them. 

That last thought triggered some sliver of a memory in Bobby, and it filled him with cold dread. Julio Mostarda. That little bastard had been there last night, and the one thing Bobby clearly remembered was Julio's rage-twisted face when Bobby had told him he was about to leave for P2 in the morning. Bobby had just laughed at him, then, and soon forgot about him in the milling mass of people at the bar. 

He should have known Julio would try something stupid. 

Bobby walked out of the small room, still steadying himself with a hand on the wall. The screams came from the left, from somewhere deeper inside the building. So, naturally, Bobby turned right, staggering along the hallway, hoping to find a way out of this house of horrors. 

A few meters down the hallway, Bobby remembered to look at his wristwatch. It was way after noon, he realized with another shock. Vian wanted to come over at eleven o'clock to pick him up. He had to call Vian, God only knew what he would do if he found Bobby missing. He had to tell him immediately that he would be late...

For a moment, Bobby unsuccessfully searched for his phone, but then the wail behind him stopped in a shrill, high-pitched gargle that abruptly kicked Bobby's mind into gear again. 

"Oh god," he whispered to himself. "Vian..." 

Slowly, Bobby turned around, facing the door at the far end of the hallway with renewed dread. Despite everything, he suddenly had a very clear idea of what he was going to find on the other side of it. 

Slowly, but now a little steadier with every step, Bobby walked down the hallway. The wailing had stopped completely, now, but the utter silence that remained wasn't necessarily any better for Bobby's nerves. If at all, it felt even more oppressive than the screams that had filled the air the whole time before. 

When Bobby reached the door, he hesitated for a heartbeat, his hand literally hovering over the doorknob. But with a shrug, Bobby kicked himself. After all, knowing almost always was better than wondering. 

He opened the door and stepped through; entering a large room that once must have been a factory floor or a warehouse or something. Gray light was slanting along heavy, wooden beams that supported a roof of corrugated steel, and even with the slightly run-down look, the place was beautiful in a shabby, industrial way. 

The scene on the floor in front of him, on the other hand, was everything else but beautiful.

Bobby was standing on a small platform a few meters above the floor, with two massive wooden staircases leading down on either side of him. Right in the middle of the room, Bobby could see Vian standing in front of large puddle of reddish goo, hunched over and breathing hard. There were chunks in the goo, and even though most of them were barely larger than an egg, Bobby could spot enough larger pieces from where he was standing to know that he was looking at a pile of finely shredded human remains. Remains of a human who had been screaming the whole time since Bobby had woken up. 

Bobby hazarded a vague guess that said human had been Julio Mostarda. 

“Vian?” Bobby asked, his shaky voice frail in the cavernous hall.

Instantly, Vian whisked around, still hunched, but alert and unquestionably worried. With a single leap that was less a bodily motion than a violent, telekinetic lurch, Vian jumped up onto the small platform Bobby was standing on. He put a steadying arm around him, surveying Bobby with impossibly large, green eyes. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, only a few drops of blood and gore distracting from the fact that he was the most caring boyfriend in the entire Empire. “You seemed okay, but you were still out cold. Are you hurt?”

“I am fine,” Bobby replied, confused and scared and yet very much relieved that he could finally lean his head against his shoulder again. “Dazed, but I think not particularly damaged.”

“Good.” There was an unmistakeable threat still ringing in Vian’s voice, and Bobby shuddered at the thought of who he was still threatening considering what he had done to Julio. Presumably.

“Was that…” Bobby pointed at the chunky goo in the hall. “Was that Julio?” 

Instead of a worded reply, Vian gave a snort that was both confirming and angered. “No more stupid mistakes for that one.” 

“Improbable, yes.” On part of Bobby was scared to the bones that he was dating a guy who could react this vengefully. On the other hand, he had to admit that is was a damn cool feeling. Scary, still. “Can we go now? Please?”

Vian cast a last, annoyed glance at Julio’s remains, but then nodded and gently led Bobby down the stairs. Vian even gallantly tried to hold him in a way that he wouldn’t have to look at the worst when they passed what was left of Julio. It didn’t keep Bobby from identifying a dark, glossy chunk as a large part from Julio’s skull, though. The hair was still attached and still neatly gelled back in Julio’s trademark style. 

Silently, Bobby wondered if it was a wise thing allowing him to get entangled in the lives of people who could and would kill without a second thought. Not that Vian had done anything illegal, far from it. Nor anything Bobby wouldn’t have wished for. Well, admittedly, except the torturing part. 

Stakes definitely were higher when Phoenix Knights were involved. 

“What a luck he didn’t hurt you,” Vian growled as soon as they were out of the building. “I really don’t know what I would have done if he had.”

Silently, Bobby swallowed. “What a luck I am fine.”


End file.
